UNReality
by Writer117
Summary: Clark's world is being torn apart but all is not as it seems...COMPLETE
1. UNReality 1

Disclaimer: Canon characters are not mine. Story line and unfamiliar characters are mine… my own… my precious.

AU / first season

Thanks to my betas- my dear husband and oldest daughter.

One.

"Mom…Dad," Clark Kent called running up to the front steps of the house. Using his x-ray vision he saw two people standing in the kitchen. Relieved, he started up the stairs.

His fingers gripped the handle of the screen ready to yank it open when the house exploded. The concussion from the blast threw Clark into the air. His flight ended with him crashing through the picket fence.

For a moment, he lay on his back, stunned. Someone was running toward him, calling his name.

He sat up, rolling to his knees. Dizziness overcame him, nearly keeping him down but…his parents were still in there. "Mom!…Dad!" He struggled to his feet. Staring wide eyes at the inferno that was his house. They were in there…he could get them out…he had to get them out. A panic gripped him forcing him to stumble toward the blaze.

"Clark, no!" a voice shouted from behind him.

"Dad!…Mom!" He ignored the voice.

Arms around him, strong arms reached around him from behind, restraining him. He struggled but the dizziness intensified and his strength seemed to drain out of him. He pulled against the arms but they were winning, dragging him back, through the ruined fence. The two stumbled onto the gravel road with Clark landing heavily against the other person. He tried to move but his muscles wouldn't obey. His head lolled back against the others chest.

"Clark?…I think he's in shock…Clark?"

Lex? The voice, the arms were Lex's.

"Lex?" His brain was fogged up, his strength had given out leaving him a dead weight in Lex's grasp…meteor rock…meteor rock was near.

He felt his left arm lifted and, through bleary eyes, saw a green metal band clasped around his wrist. Agony shot up his arm and through his body. His muscles quivered, his eyes clenched shut. As his consciousness faded he heard, "Oh, Clark…" whisper soft in his ear. "You knew it had to come to this."


	2. UNReality 2

Two.

He was in perfect blackness. It was thick, holding him still. No pressures on his body, only a dull rhythmic thumping in the background. It lulled him for a long time. He didn't think or feel or see.

A surge of pain went through his body. His muscles clenched, his teeth ground. Consciousness slammed back to him forcing a gasp. He tried to curl in on himself but his body wouldn't readily cooperate.

A whimper escaped his lips. Rolling his head to the side, he cracked his eyes open. He was in a small room, stark white. The overhead lights were under the plexiglass paneled ceiling, a large mirror was toward the foot of his cot and a door directly across from him. The cot was narrow and too short for his six foot three inch frame. His clothing had been replaced with white hospital-type scrubs.

Thoughts started to fight through the muck of remaining blackness.

'Where am I?'

'What happened?'

Another wave of pain twisted him in on himself.

'Meteor rock.'

His stomach roiled, dizziness gripped him.

'I am going to be sick.'

'Think, Clark. What happened?'

He fought through the chaos in his mind.

Lex…coming into the Talon…"Clark, it looks like smoke near your farm."…"Uh, I'm sure it's nothing." Fake smile, making to leave…"Do you want a ride home?"…Nodding. "Thanks. Lex."…"I don't see any smoke, Lex."…Lex shrugged, "Maybe it was nothing. We should still check."…Running up to the house, "Mom, Dad."…House…the house…the house…exploded…it exploded…itexplodeditexplodeditexploded…Lex's voice…in his ear…"You knew it had to come to this."

'No, that's wrong. My parents can't die. I need them.'

'Lex would never hurt me. He's my friend.'

'Dream, had to be a dream.'

The click of the door unlocking brought his attention. A salt and pepper headed man in a long white coat walked in flipping through a file. An orderly followed close behind and locked the door behind them.

"Clark, how are you feeling today?" the doctor asked.

Clark frowned at him, pushing himself back to sit against the wall. He winced as the room spun. "Where's my mom and dad?"

The doctor pursed his lips. "Clark, do you know where you are?"

Wordless, Clark shook his head no.

Making a note in the file, the doctor continued, "I am Dr Kimball. You have been in my care for eight weeks. You were brought here when your parents were killed in an accident. You have been in a form of traumatic shock ever since."

A tear streaked down Clark's cheek. His parents were his world, they were gone, which left him with no world in which to live. 'Liar.' "I don't believe you."

"It's alright, Clark. We will take this slow."

Clark blinked, remembering, "Where is Lex? You work for him right? What does he want with me?"

"Lex Luthor? No, I do not work for him." Realization hit the doctor. "Lex Luthor came to visit you often. Since your last violent outburst three weeks ago we couldn't allow visitors any more."

Clark had to close his eyes against a wave of nausea.

Dr Kimball, watching closely, asked, "Dizzy, Clark?" At Clark's slight nod, he pulled a syringe of green liquid from his pocket. "This will help you relax."

Clark opened bleary eyes to focus on the doctor. 'Do they know my secret?' "No." He made to move away from the doctor. He was sluggish and easily held by the orderly.

"You can't use that," he insisted.

"Why not, Clark?" the doctor humored his patient.

"You'll kill me." He continued to strain against the orderly.

Dr Kimball watched, intrigued. The boy's eyes didn't leave the syringe, his breath came in gasps, he pulled constantly against the hands restraining him. He was terrified. "Clark, what will kill you?"

Clark blinked, risked a glance at the doctor's face. "M-meteor rock, meteor rock will kill me."

Doctor Kimball shook his head, placing a hand on Clark's shoulder, "Clark, this is only a sedative. There is no meteor rock."

"I don't want it," voice harder, commanding.

"Calm down, Clark," as if talking to a small child "I will put you in restraints if I must." The doctor pulled his arm straight, swabbed the crook of his inner arm, and quickly emptied the liquid into Clark's blood stream.

Clark could only stare as the needle easily slid into his skin. A stick and burn later left his muscles unresponsive and his brain back in a hazy fog.


	3. UNReality 3

Three.

"Clark! Supper!"

Clark blinked, looking around. He was lying on the sofa in the loft. 'What happened? Was it all a dream?'

"Clark?" the voice came again.

'Mom.' He needed to see her, to touch her, make sure she was ok.

"I'm coming!" he called back from the window. He super-sped into the house. Stopping in the kitchen door, he watched his mom putter around the kitchen, making ready the last details of supper. He rushed to her pulling her into a bear hug.

Martha Kent sputtered as her son engulfed her in his arms. "Clark? What's wrong, sweetie?"

Clark held back a sob threatening to escape. "I just love you."

"Oh, okay," was all she could think to respond. "I love you, too." She laid a hand on his face as he stepped back. "Why don't you go get your father. He's in the back pasture."

Martha laughed at her boy's high voltage smile that flashed as he super sped out the door.

"Dad!" Clark called at the top of the hill. He spotted his father about a hundred yards away on the tractor headed his direction.

Jonathan Kent waved at his son. The boy had been anxiously scanning the field, his visage erupting in a multi-kilowatt smile when he laid eyes on his father. He seemed to disappear and reappear beside him.

Clark placed a hand on his father's resting on the fender. "Mom says come eat," Clark shouted above the tractor.

At his son's body language and shaky voice, Jonathan's father radar started to bleep. "What's wrong, son?"

Clark shook his head, "Nothing, Dad. I just…" shrug.

Jonathan smiled reservedly. "Okay, let's go eat."

Clark beamed as he walked alongside his father all the way back to the house.

At the dinner table, Martha and Jonathan chatted softly about their day. Clark was lost remembering the dream. Martha looked over to her son pushing his food around his plate.

"Something wrong with your food, Clark?"

Clark looked up at her, eyebrows raised. "Uh, no. I'm…" shrug "…just thinking." He looked to his parents, paused in their conversation to listen attentively to their son. "I had a really weird dream…and it kinda spooked me." At their silence he continued. "Lex tricked me in to coming home and when I got here the house exploded with you two inside. He put a band made of meteor rock on my wrist and I passed out. Then I was in a small white room and some doctor was telling me that I had a mental breakdown. I wasn't strong and he gave me a shot of something." Clark absently rubbed his inner arm. "I woke up in the loft."

Martha and Jonathan exchanged a slightly worried look. "Clark, it was only a dream. We're here, your fine…"

"Yeah, and Lex would never betray me."

The shattering of the dining room widows backed everyone against the wall. Clark stood slightly in front of his parents, Martha clasped Jonathan tightly, as heavily armed men dressed head to toe in black came through the windows, the doors, even down the stairs behind them, training their weapons steadily on them.

Lionel Luthor stepped into the kitchen in his long black trench coat. After looking around he came toward the cornered family. "So sorry for the intrusion." He walked over to the table. Choosing a dinner roll, he took a bite.

"What do you want?" Jonathan came forward a step placing himself between his family and Lionel.

Lionel met Jonathan's glare and didn't drop it as he stepped around him and put his arm around Clark's shoulders. "I know what your son is, Mr. Kent."

Martha put a hand over her mouth. Jonathan clenched his jaw. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Lionel tisked at him. "Mr. Kent, don't insult my intelligence," he pouted. "You have a very remarkable boy here." He beckoned one of the soldiers in black. Taking something from him, Lionel turned back to the Kents.

Clark pitched forward, his complexion paling. Jonathan and Martha dove for him only to be physically restrained by the soldiers. Lionel kneeled beside Clark, holding a green metal wrist band.

Martha and Jonathan were shoved to their knees in front of their son. "Clark," Martha whispered.

"What ever you want…" Jonathan pleaded, his voice thick.

"Thank you, Mr. Kent." Lionel stood turning to leave as two men grabbed Clark by the arms, pulling him after.

"Mom. Dad," Clark called weakly.

"Hey!" Jonathan shouted.

Lionel looked back at the couple on their knees. "I want your son, Mr. Kent. Don't worry." A cold smile creased his face. "You won't miss him."

Clark struggled against his captors as they drug him off the porch. Lionel followed close behind, keeping the meteor rock close enough to keep him manageable.

"Now, now, young Mr. Kent," he chided. "Your father said 'anything.'"

A gunshot, his mother screaming, another shot, silence. A cry wrenched from his soul as he was stuffed into a black van where Lionel clasped the wrist band around his arm and darkness took him.


	4. UNReality 4

Four.

He awoke in a rush. With a gasp, he shoved upward, back pressed against the wall. His head was pounding, his eyes felt hot. He was in that room. Stark white, big mirror, bright lights. An intravenous line ran into the back of his left hand draining a medley of colored liquids into his blood stream. A quadrilogy of wires lead out of the neck of his shirt into a bank of monitoring equipment. He shivered, leaned his head against the wall.

Sounds echoed through his mind. BANG! His eyes shot wide. Gunshots! 'No!' His mother was screaming. 'Mom, Dad. I have to get to them.'

Clark staggered to his feet, frantically ripping the electrodes and IV from his body. He threw himself against the door. "Let me out!" he shouted, pounding his fists against it. He shouted and punched and kicked the door until his strength let out and he slid down the door.

He was dozing on the floor when the door unlocked and opened. Dr Kimball and two orderlies came in. The orderlies got the unresponsive boy back into his bed, reattaching the equipment.

Dr Kimball turned to address his patient. "Clark, what happened? You need to stay in bed or I will have to restrain you," the doctor scolded.

Clark blinked out of his reverie, whispering, "Where are my parents?" deep shaky breath "Please, I need to see them," he begged.

"Now, Clark, we have spoken about this many times. What has brought on this mood? " Dr Kimball began scribbling notes in his file.

Clark heaved a whimpering breath. He knew he wasn't going to get anything out of this man. "Oh, god, go away. I don't want to be here anymore. I am tired of this."

"You said before, that you didn't want to sleep. What is happening when you dream, Clark?" Dr Kimball injected a clear liquid into the new IV line.

Clark's eyes glassed over but he stayed conscious, his vacant stare fixed on the ceiling. "My mom…" his voice caught in a sob "and my dad." heavy sigh "They are in trouble…I can't help them…" blink "…can't trust Lex…" confused frown "Lionel has meteor rock…makes me sick."

"Meteor rock, Clark. You mentioned that before. What about the meteor rocks? Why do they effect you?" At Clark's blank stare, Dr Kimball snapped his fingers in front of Clark's face. He blinked at the doctor.

"I…no." Clark pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "My father told me never to tell."

Dr Kimball clenched his jaw. "This is getting old, Clark. So many secrets." He turned and walked out the door, the orderlies following close behind.

Clark blinked at the closed door. Lost in the fog, he blinked at the bright lights. Slowly, sluggishly, he scooted off the cot onto the floor. Trailing wires and the IV line, he curled under the cot to get out of the direct path of the light. He didn't want to sleep but the continuous-feed drug accomplished it's purpose and pulled him into listless unconsciousness.


	5. UNReality 5

Five.

"Wakey, wakey, Clark."

A pleasant voice, calling his name. His head was pillowed in his arms at a table. He sat up, looking around, confused. He was in the Talon. Chloe stood before him.

"Chloe?" He shot to his feet. "What's happening? How did I get here?"

Chloe frowned but kept her fake smile on strong. "Uh, we were supposed to meet and cram for that history exam, remember?"

Clark blinked at her. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sure, I remember," he fibbed. "I just need to call home for a second, okay?"

Chloe handed over her cell phone. "Make it quick. I'll go get the cappuccinos."

Clark quickly dialed his home. Pete sat down beside him with a silent wave, not wanting to interrupt his friend's call. Clark let it ring until Chloe came back with the drinks. When Lana finally joined them, he slapped the phone closed, sliding it over to Chloe, gritting his teeth in frustration.

Lana smiled at him, "Clark, what's the matter?"

He shook his head, flashing a half-hearted smile. "I was trying to call my mom and dad but no one answered."

Wide-eyed looks went all around the table. Pete spoke first, "Clark, are you okay?"

Clark blinked at him. "Uh, yeah…" furrowed brow "I keep having these dreams" vacant stare "my parents are in trouble…but I can't help them…they die, they always die." His gaze shifted to his hands. "Then I wake up and I'm in this small room. I think it's a hospital room. This doctor, Dr Kimball, keeps telling me that I'm crazy." He stopped talking, rubbing his hands over his face.

Chloe broke the thick silence, "Clark, your parents did die…"

Clark's hands slapped the table. He pushed himself forward leaning into her face, "No!"

The trio of friends jerked back. Lana was next to speak, "Clark, they did. Three months ago." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "You were in the hospital for nine weeks. You have been living in the mansion with Lex for three weeks." She paused, reaching to grab his hand.

Clark jerked away from her. "No! You're lying. You are all lying." He stood, his chair crashing to the floor.

Pete jumped up beside his friend. "Clark, why would we lie to you? We're your friends."

"I don't know! I don't know anything anymore." A wave of nausea washed over him. Leaning over, he wrapped his arms around his middle. 'No, not again.' A roar grew in his ears drowning all other sound.

Time slowed. Chloe was to his right, her hand rubbing his back. She was speaking but he couldn't understand her. Pete was to his left taking his arm to lead him back to the table. Lana stood before him, her hands behind her back. She was talking, too, her expression angry. She pulled out the meteor rock wrist band. Clark planted his feet, looking at each of his friends, afraid and confused. Chloe, still rubbing his back, seemed to be coaxing him forward. Pete held Clark's wrist out to receive the band. With a kiss on the forehead, Lana clasped it on his arm.

Lights of all colors, danced into his view. He watched mesmerized as the colors covered his entire field of vision. The roar in his ears built pressure inside his head that made it feel as if it would explode. One coherent thought fought its way out as consciousness faded, 'I can't do this anymore.'


	6. UNReality 6

Six.

He awoke slowly this time. His head still pounding, his muscles ached. Soft padded restraints held his wrists, waist, and ankles, keeping his movements little more than wiggles.

Clark looked around the room, moving only his eyes to keep his surroundings still. Stark white, overhead lights under plexiglass ceiling, large mirrored wall at the foot and a door directly across from him. He was back in the white hospital clothes. The intravenous line, wires leading out of the neck of his shirt, the monitoring equipment…and a woman with long auburn hair standing with her back to him.

"Mom?" he rasped. The woman turned, younger, not his mom. 'Oh, God, where am I?'

"Hi there, Sunshine," her voice drawled. The woman smiled brightly, pushing the hair from Clark's forehead. "Doc Kimball will be glad to hear you're awake." She reached for the phone on the wall, spoke softly into the handset then finished and turned back to him. "He's on his way." She winked at Clark, going back to check the stack of monitoring equipment at his bedside.

Clark rolled his eyes toward her. "Why am I here?"

She turned to smile at him. Sweet faced boy. "Clark, I'm sure the doc has talked to you about this…"

"No," sharp, commanding, head raised off the pillow "we have never talked about this. I don't know you, I don't know where I am, I don't know Dr Kimball." He slammed his head against the pillow in frustration, immediately regretting it as the room spun.

The nurse rolled her lips, smiling sadly. Her attention turned to a middle aged man entering the room. Long white coat, salt and pepper hair, and a file. "Hey, Doc," she greeted with a wide smile.

Dr Kimball leafed through the file, dismissing the nurse, "Thank you, Missy."

With another wink at Clark, she left.

Dr Kimball scanned the equipment and IV settings before turning his attention to Clark. "How are you today, Clark?"

"Why are you doing this to me?" He pulled at his bonds. "I want to see my parents."

"Clark," soft voice, as if speaking to an small child "your parents were killed in an accident. You were the only survivor. After you recovered from your injuries, you were brought here."

Clark shook his head. "No, you're lying. I know you're lying."

Eyebrows raised, Dr Kimball prodded, "How do you know, Clark?"

"Because . I . can't . be . hurt," he spat without thinking.

Dr Kimball leaned close, watching Clark intensely, "Why, Clark, why can't you be hurt?"

Clark blinked at him. Gritting his teeth, he laid his head gently back on the pillow.

Dr Kimball sighed. "Clark, I cannot help you get well if you keep secrets from me."

Silence.

"Okay. That's enough for today." Dr Kimball pulled a full syringe from his coat pocket.

"No, wait," Clark pleaded. "Don't use that." He knew he was begging but he didn't care. He did not want to sleep again. "What do you want from me?" His voice was shrill, desperate.

Dr Kimball injected the liquid into the IV port, ignoring Clark as he tugged against the restraints. Deep in thought, Dr Kimball laid a hand on Clark's head, absently stoking the boy's forehead with his thumb. Leaning close, he whispered in his ear, "I want to know your secret, Clark." He watched as the boy lost his fight and fell unconscious.


	7. UNReality 7

Seven.

"Your shot, Clark."

Clark blinked, looked around the room. Stained glass, fireplace, bookcase, pool cue in hand. Lex stood on the other side of the pool table, pool cue in one hand, bottle of water in the other, watching Clark expectantly.

Clark dropped the cue, backing away from the table. "Lex? What's going on?"

"It's your shot. Are you feeling alright?" Lex came over to Clark, a worried look on his face.

Clark continued to back away, eyes wide never leaving Lex.

"Clark…what's wrong?"

"Uh…I'm not sure." Clark wiped his face with a shaky hand. "I think I need to go home."

Lex cocked an eyebrow at him. "Clark," he spoke slowly, quietly, dropping his gaze to the floor. "This is your home."

Clark blinked at Lex, confused. "What do you mean? Where's my mom and dad?" he voice shook, afraid of the answer.

Lex set the cue and water on the pool table. "Your parents died, Clark. Three months ago."

"No…no. I was dreaming…it was a dream, Lex," he looked around, not seeing, buried in his memories. He turned to Lex, vehemently accusing, "My dad was right about you. You tricked me, you…" rubbing his left wrist "and then your father…" looking straight at Lex, eyes wide "I…Lex, please say it's all a dream!"

Holding his hands out, unthreatening, "Clark, it's alright," slow step towards his friend "I didn't trick you. I know your just confused. "

At Lex's call, three large men in black suits rushed through the door. Lex motioned them to Clark, while turning to his desk.

Lionel Luthor strolled into the room, standing shoulder to shoulder with Lex. "Well, well, well, young Mr. Kent."

Turning back, Lex handed a green metal wrist band to his father. Mr. Luthor turned to Clark, an evil grin lighting his face.

The guards had Clark effectively pinned to the floor. He looked at Lex, brow furrowed in confusion. "Lex, I…" his eyes widened as a wave of nausea hit him "wait…I." He desperately tried to wiggle out of the grasp of the security men. Eyes tearing, he watched Mr. Luthor approach, "Please, Lex…"

Pain erupted from every nerve as the wrist band was secured. 'Oh, God, what's happening to me?'


	8. UNReality 8

(recommendation: read this section with 'Broken' by Evenesence playing quietly in the background)

Eight.

He awoke in that room. He was kneeling in the middle of the floor as everything spun and tipped around him. Arms wrapped around his stomach trying to keep from heaving, he rocked back and forth. 'I want to go home.'

He screamed into the room, "Why are you doing this to me? I don't want to be here anymore!" He thrust himself to his feet, angry despair moving him through the nausea and gut-twisting pain. He couldn't stand upright but he gripped the cot with both hands and swung it like a baseball bat at the walls, the door, finally at the mirror. It shattered, the remnants of the cot protruding into a small room on the other side.

His adrenaline spent, Clark fell, curled on the cold tiled floor. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, blocking out his surroundings.

Men in white uniforms poured into the room through the doorway and climbed over the cot from the opposite room. A man in a long white coat weeded his way through the orderlies. He knelt beside the now whimpering boy.

"Clark," he called gently. "Clark, it's Dr Kimball." He placed a hand on Clark's arm. The boy curled tighter. "You're having another episode, Clark. I am going to give you an injection to calm you." Dr Kimball pulled a full syringe from his pocket, motioning to the orderlies to restrain the boy.

One orderly per arm and leg pulled gently but forcefully against his taunt limbs, uncurling him. At the exposed position, Clark's eye shot open, rolling to focus on the syringe full of greenish liquid.

Panic moved him. "No!" his voice bit into the room loud and sharp. His right arm slipped from the shocked orderly's grasp, batting the syringe to shatter against the wall.

Dr Kimball fell backward onto his butt. "Hold him," he snapped at the orderlies.

Clark pleaded with the doctor, "I want to go home."

"Now, Clark, you know I can't allow that. You are very sick." He paused watching the words sink through the boy's confusion.

Clark furrowed his brow at the doctor. Renewed anger surged through his body. He jerked against the orderlies holding him. "Liar!" he screamed, a vicious snarl playing on his face. "You work for the Luthors! They brought me here to learn my secret!"

"What secret, Clark? Tell me your secret."

Clark stilled. The only noise in the room was orderlies and techs cleaning the glass and remaining pieces of the cot. Whispered, "I am the boy who fell from the stars..."

"What do you mean, Clark?"

Stubborn silence.

"You are just a boy, Clark, not some…superman. Meteor rock does not effect you. And your parents . are . dead."

Clark listened intently as the doctor laid it out for him. 'No…I am Clark Kent…the boy that fell from the stars…I can run faster than a speeding bullet…I can see through walls…I can bench press the tractor…'

"You're lying. My mom and dad are not dead. I still need them." His voice broke. Was his super-existence a psychotic delusion? "I can bench press the tractor," he said softly. His voice steadily rose as he repeated his mantra until he was screaming. "I can bench press the tractor!"

Dr Kimball swabbed the crook of Clark's arm with an alcohol pad. With determined precision, he had the fluid in Clark's bloodstream. He watched as the boy's movements weakened, he shouts faded, his head lolled, his vision glazed, but the mantra continued under his breath, "I can bench press the tractor."


	9. UNReality 9

Nine.

Sensory Deprivation/Hypnosis Subject #17

Supervising Physician: Kimball, J

Subject: Kent, Clark J.

Age: approx 15 years

Sex: M

Height: 6' 3"

Weight: 225 lbs.

Physical Weakness: Meteor Rock

Emotional Weakness: Mother, Father, Friends

Notes--

Day 1: Subject acquired; deduced a course of action from the files appropriated from LL, found physical weakness; subject taken from home, the central place of security----K

Day 2: Subject introduced to the 'tomb'; trial and error found the correct dosage of the sedative/hypno drugs; are believing that repeatedly purging central perceived constant - the parents - will bring results quickly----K

Day 3: Introduced a 'safety zone' -- a hospital; Subject did well ; already confessing to meteor rock as weakness----K

Day 4: Subject distraught after brief session; taking a 24 hr break----K

Day 5: Brought Subject back to 'safety zone'; Subject weakened after session; possible side effect of constant meteor rock exposure----K

Day 6: Subject introduced to another 'comfort'-- local teen hang out -- used betrayal of solid friendships to further weaken Subject; Subject broke through hypnotic trance; increased sedative----K

Day 7: Brought Subject back to 'safety zone'; Subject exhausted----K

Day 8: Another familiar 'comfort' destroyed; LL friendship spoiled; Subject weakened----K

Day9: Brought Subject back to 'safety zone'; vital signs erratic; still no answer to central question; am growing impatient----K

Day 10: Subject mental break at 6:43 pm, twice as long as any other subject; fascinating results----K

Lex Luthor's stomach roiled in his gut. He sat at his desk, eyes wide, fixed on the computer screen before him. He tapped his finger against his thumb, his teeth ground together to keep from smashing the computer screen. '_files appropriated from LL' -- _"My fault," he mumbled. "My files, my fault."

Grabbing his cordless, he furiously made calls, redeeming every marker and favor owed him. Once his rescue plan was set and in motion, he dialed a final number. Brrrt, brrrt. "Mrs. Kent?… I found something…I'll be out in a few minutes."

The drive to the Kent farm was the longest of his life. When his best friend went missing ten days ago, he spared no expense from private investigators to mobsters in Metropolis to find him. He spent a lot of time standing, thinking, in that secret room; the room that held the pieces of the puzzle that was Clark Kent, hoping a few of those pieces would fit together and tell him where Clark had disappeared to.

A routine security check early yesterday brought the results that his computer had been hacked nearly two months ago . Calling a professional from Metropolis, he discovered that all of his files had been downloaded. Including the files on Clark. Doing a reverse hack and hacking the hacker, brought the files of a Dr Roger Kimball on Subject #17 at the Gale Institute of Psychology in Chicago, Illinois. It took nearly a full day to get enough information to find Clark.

As he pulled in the drive, Jonathan and Martha Kent rushed down the steps to meet him. Jonathan looked haggard, older. Martha's eyes were red, her features tired.

Lex stood to face them. Sucking in a breath, he blurted, "I found him."

Martha turned burying her face in Jonathan's chest, his arms held her as she shook with silent tears.

Jonathan cleared his throat, holding tightly to his emotions. "Where?"

"We found him in Chicago, Illinois at the Gale Institute of Psychology." Hands in trench coat pockets.

Head cocked, "How did he get to Chicago?"

Lex looked anywhere but at the Kents, his toe scuffed the dirt. "Someone hacked into my computer…" Martha pulled away from Jonathan. " Since the day that Clark saved my life, I have kept detailed files on him. Anything I learn, anything I suspect is in those files."

Jonathan pulled his shoulders back to stand at his full height. Squaring his jaw, he pulled back a fist and popped Lex flat in the mouth.

Lex landed on his butt in the dirt, stunned. Nodding, he spat blood onto the ground. "I deserved that," he agreed, getting to his feet. "But we don't have time for this. I have a team headed to Chicago right now to get Clark out."


	10. UNReality 10

Ten.

The Gale Institute of Psychology was a four story building of glass and brick. From the outside, it appeared as a professional place of healing the human psyche. But past the cordial decor and classical art on the walls, sixty full time doctors performed two hundred experimental therapies per week on one hundred eighty resident patients in basement laboratories.

Across the street in a parking lot, Lex Luthor stood beside the leader of the retrieval team, a big man with a square jaw and professional guise.

"Well, Jacobs?" Lex inquired.

Jacobs lowered his night vision binoculars, turning to Lex. "One guard at the front desk. The rest of the building is clear except for a few rooms. We are assuming it's the janitorial staff."

Lex nodded. "Then let's get this done."

Jacobs began giving orders through the headset mike.

Lex jogged to Jonathan, who was standing by a black van just across the vacant parking lot. "We're going in. Follow only after I signal you."

Jonathan nodded, putting on his headset and tactical vest, watching Lex run back toward the team. He turned back to the van, where Martha sat in the passenger seat.

She reached through the window pulling him as close as possible. She absorbed as much of him as she could, breathing in his cologne, running her hands through his hair. She pulled back wiping tears from her eyes. She smiled through her fear, nodding for him to go. He set a gentle kiss against her lips then turned from her. She watched him walk across the lot and started to pray.

A team of twenty men in black BDUs and tactical vests, carrying P-90s ran across the street and up the stairs of the building in two by two cover formation. Using a pocket laser, the lock was melted and they were quickly and silently through the door.

The headset clicked in Lex's ear, signaling him to follow. Pulling a 9 mil from his belt holster, he headed across the street and into the building. He tapped the mike at his shoulder, signaling Jonathan to come ahead.

The night guard at the front desk was easily disposed of before Jonathan came in.

"Where is he?" Jonathan asked., coming to stand beside Lex.

"Patience, Mr. Kent," Lex whispered from the computer console behind the front desk. He was quickly tapping through pages of the building schematics. Stopping to study one, he turned to Jacobs, standing to his left. Pointing to the screen, "According to Dr Kimball's computer, the lab is here."

Jacobs turned signaling to his men, as the party moved down the west corridor. Taking the fire stairs down, Jonathan and Lex in the middle of the soldiers, the group entered the basement level corridor. Silently motioning, Jacobs directed his men down both directions.

Lex went right, followed by Jonathan, scanning the black name plates on the doors. He came up short at one reading "The Tomb." Jonathan read over Lex's shoulder, feeling his insides turn cold.

Lex looked back at Jonathan, who nodded his readiness. Jacobs motioned to some of his men. One came forward pulling a credit card type key from his vest. The soldier slide it through the swipe lock on the door. Little green and red lights flashed in a random sequence, flashed in tandem then the door locks clicked.

Jacobs gave more signals, sending half his men two by two into the lab.


	11. UNReality 11

Eleven.

The mike clicked in Lex and Jonathan's ear signaling them to come in. The glow from five computer monitors illuminated the left side of the room. To the right was a steel staircase leading up about six feet to a cat walk surrounding a large opaque box.

"There's no one here," Jonathan observed, looking around the room. He didn't notice three of the soldiers each pulling a fresh corpse to the far end of the dark room.

Lex whispered to Jacobs, "Is one of those Dr Kimball?" Lex pressed his lips together when Jacobs shook his head.

Jonathan's attention was caught by the box. He stared open mouthed. "Is my son in that?" voice rough, strained.

Lex blinked, looking to Jonathan. "It's a sensory deprivation chamber, Mr. Kent." he said quietly.

Jonathan headed up the steps to the mouth of the chamber. Lex and another soldier followed close behind. On the platform was another computer. The soldier went straight to it and began punching keys. Dim yellow lights in the ceiling kicked on as the top of the box slid open.

Lex covered his mouth with his hand to hold down the contents of his stomach. Jonathan gasped at the sight of his boy.

Clark was submerged in a clear gel-like solution. A regulator was in his mouth supplying oxygen to his lungs, nose plugs kept him from aspirating the goo, black VR goggles were held onto his head by a wide black band. He was dressed in a black body suit with wires and cables running throughout, connecting to panels on the sides of the tank.

Jonathan fell onto his belly reaching elbow deep into the tank lifting Clark's upper body. Supporting him with his right hand behind the boy's neck, Jonathan yanked the goggles off with his left, flinging them back into the tank. He wasted no time disposing of the regulator and nose plugs as well.

"Help me, damnit," he gruffed.

Lex kneeled, reaching in to disconnect the wires and cables leading into the suit. Heaving together they pulled Clark out onto the steel mesh platform.

Clark's eyes were open but unseeing. His head lolled back against his father's chest. He didn't move other than the shallow breaths that rattled in his chest.

With the gear off, Jonathan and Lex could see just how pale and sick Clark looked. Jonathan did a quick pat down of his limbs to check for any injuries. The only thing he found was a raw ring around his left wrist from a metal band with a green shimmer. Knowing what it was but holding tight to his composure, he unclasped the band and threw it toward the back of the room.

The soldier with them kneeled down, whispering, "Let's go." Pulling Clark across his shoulders, he stood to lead the way out down the stairs.

Lex stopped Jacobs at the door of the lab. Letting everyone else out, voice low, he said, "Leave someone here for the good doctor." Jacobs nodded his understanding and Lex exited the room.

The trip out was as uneventful as the trip in. Jonathan stayed as close to his son as possible, Lex not far behind.

Martha saw them jogging across the parking lot. She jumped out to open the sliding door of the van. Fresh tears flowed down her cheeks when she saw her son.

One soldier climbed into the driver's seat, Lex into the passenger. The Kent's where joined by another soldier in the cargo area. Dawn was breaking as the anonymous black van sped south toward McKinley Park.

The soldier, Simms, called up front, "Stop at a gas station. We need towels and water." Turning back to the Kents, "He has been in a constant temperature for two weeks. We need to get him clean and warm or he could get mighty sick." Together, they stripped Clark and wrapped him in a thick blanket.

At the pit stop the driver grabbed large bottles of water and shop towels. They washed off as much of the gelatinous goop as possible. Clark was still unresponsive but his blood shot eyes closed after he was bundled in a clean blanket and laid in his mother's lap.

Lex looked back at the exhausted but complete Kent family, Jonathan, reclining against the side of the van, arm around his wife behind the driver's seat; Martha leaning against him stroking their son's head pillowed in her lap. His emotions were on a roller coaster, pleased that the family was reunited but disgusted that his own meddling had caused them such pain. Things would be different between he and Clark now and it made him…sad.


	12. UNReality 12

Twelve.

In an open section of McKinley Park, at Archer and Western, a black Bell 222 helicopter waited. The silence of the early morning was broken by a burst of static, then a voice from the hand mike, "ETA 10 minutes, be ready." The pilot jumped into his seat to initiate the start-up sequence.

Jonathan couldn't take his eyes from his sleeping boy. Even wrapped tightly in blankets, he shivered nonstop. Jonathan gently laid his hand on Clark's head. The boy jerked slightly. Jonathan's eyes teared up. 'Oh, Clark, what did they do to you?'

Simms dug into his pack pulling out some clothes. "Your son's body has been under constant stimulation for days. He should sleep for a while. From what I know about torture tactics, I highly suggest you find a good psychologist."

Jonathan exchanged a determined look with Martha. He nodded his appreciation to Simms.

It took all three of them to dress the unconscious boy in the black sweatpants and t-shirt. By the time they were finished, the van was pulling up to the chopper.

After everyone was secure, Jonathan shook the hand of the two soldiers then climbed in followed by Lex.

Against the time they fueled up twice, it took nearly eight hours to get back to Smallville. They were met at the Luthor Mansion by Lex's security team.

As the helicopter powered down, Lex jumped out turning to take Martha's hand. Jonathan was close behind, stepping aside for the security team to get in and heft his son out. Once the pale boy was in the sunshine his eyes shot open. Jonathan caught him by the arms as he struggled to get away.

"Clark," he said forcefully. The boy's eyes were wild, confused. Jonathan gripped him harder, shaking him slightly. "Clark, it's Dad."

Lex came around beside Jonathan. "Clark, your safe," voice low.

Clark blinked looking from his dad to Lex, shifting his feet. "Are you two working together?"

Jonathan shot a look over his shoulder at Lex. "Lex helped us find you. You have been missing for ten days, Clark."

Clark's eyes filled with tears, "What am I supposed to do?"

Lex's brow furrowed, "What do you mean, Clark?"

"I don't know what to do. I don't know what you want from me." A sob caught in his throat.

Lex stepped back, pulling out his cell phone.

Jonathan relaxed his grip on Clark's arms. The boy stood watching the ground, absently rubbing his left wrist.

Martha came to Jonathan's side. Reaching up she cupped her boy's face. His eyes cleared for a split second. "Mom?"

Her face crumpled as she threw her arms around her boy. His eyes closed, his body relaxed into her, dropping them to their knees. He shook with heaving sobs, his head buried in her shoulder. "Please…just tell me what I am supposed to do," he whispered.

Martha rocked him back and forth, stroking the back of his head. She felt Jonathan kneel beside them, felt his hand on her shoulder, her moral support, her rock.

Lex came up behind them. "I have the best psychologist and physician flying in from Metropolis right now. They will be here in a few hours. Until then, they suggest we get him warm and fed."


	13. UNReality 13

Thirteen.

Lex paced behind the overstuffed leather sofa that held his now dozing friend. Martha sat soothingly stroking her son's forehead in an arm chair she drug from the other side of the room. Jonathan sat on the arm. They were listening to the physician's commentary on Clark.

The doctor was putting away his instruments. "He is a little dehydrated and very weak. His body is suffering severe exhaustion. He's like a flashlight that has been left on, his batteries need recharged." He turned to Jonathan and Martha squarely, "And since you won't let me do any blood work to determine what he has been exposed to, all I can recommend is fluids, food, and sleep."

Martha avoided the doctors accusing stare by turning her eyes to her son, Jonathan looked across the room. "Look, we are his parents. We know what is best for him. He doesn't need to be exposed to any more invasive tests." Jonathan turned an indisputable glare at the doctor.

The doctor sighed, finished forcefully shoving his stuff in his bag, and left.

Lex had stopped pacing to lock his gaze on Jonathan. "Mr. Kent…"

Jonathan stood, lips pressed together, holding up a finger. "I suggest you be very quiet, Lex," he said gruffly. "You should thank God that I am not the person I was twenty years ago or you would find yourself beaten to a pulp."

"Jonathan," Martha whispered. Jonathan flashed his eyes to her then back to Lex, took hold of his emotions, and stalked out.

Lex followed him with his eyes. Took a death breath, pulling in his bottom lip. He kept his mouth shut.

Martha bowed her head to cover her face with her hands. It had been twelve hours since her son was returned to her. It had been nearly eleven days since she had a good night sleep. She was tired and she wanted to take her family home.

"Lex, could you watch him, please. I need to get some air."

Lex nodded, "Take your time."

She couldn't bring herself to smile cordially as she passed him on her way out.

Lex scuffed the floor with his shoe. Hesitantly he came around to take Martha's seat. Lex watched his best friend. Clark's eyes moved furiously beneath their lids, his muscles would spasm every now and again, he still shivered.

Lex leaned close. "Clark, I…" cleared his throat, furrowed his brow. "I'm really sorry." His eyebrows raised high, as did his voice, "I would never intentionally hurt you. Your like a brother to me."

Clark sat up with a great gasp causing Lex to jerk upright. "Oh my God, Clark."

The boy looked around wide eyed, confused. "Lex?" voice high.

"Clark," Lex grinned. "How do you feel?"

Clark blinked at him then his eyes went back to wandering the room. "Where's my mom and dad?" he nearly shouted, breath coming in short gulps.

"Clark, calm down," Lex tried to sooth him.

He jumped unsteadily to his feet, "Where are they, Lex?"

"They'll be right back. They stepped out for some air." Lex took Clark's shoulders, guiding him back to the couch.

Shoving Lex violently, Clark shouted, "Where are they, Lex? Where's my mom and dad?"

Martha found Jonathan on the balcony, looking out, hands on the thick cement railing. She came up behind him wrapping her arms around his middle.

"Oh my God, Martha," he whispered. "I allowed this to happen."

She squeezed tighter. "If there is blame to place then I am as guilty as you."

He rubbed her arms. "We should have ended this friendship before it started."

She laid her head against his back, listening to his broken heart. They held each other until a familiar voice pulled them to face each other, listening.

There is was again…"Clark," Martha called as she and Jonathan ran back in to the other room.

They stopped in the doorway to see their son holding Lex by the throat a foot off the floor.


	14. UNReality 14

Fourteen.

"Clark," Jonathan barked running to his son. He grabbed Clark's hand, very much aware that all Clark had to do was twitch and Lex's throat would be crushed.

Martha, on the other side, pleaded with her son. "Clark, please, let him go."

Blink. Voices…voices were calling him…familiar voices. 'Dad? Mom?' Memories fought through the fog that engulfed his brain. 'Where am I?'

Lex was clawing at Clark's hand, mouth open trying to suck air through his collapsing windpipe. Jonathan kept tugging to open his fingers.

With a startled look, Clark dropped Lex to the floor. Lex curled onto his side, gasping, holding his throat. Martha was quickly at his side.

Dr James, the psychologist from Metropolis, and four security guards burst through the door scanning the room for the origin of all the shouting. Dr James made his way to Lex while the guards kept themselves between Lex and Clark.

Before security could get near, Jonathan took Clark by the upper arm, dragging him from the room. In the hall, he faced him, "Clark, do you remember what happened?"

Clark blinked, eyes unfocused, pulling up memories buried in the muck of his mind. Long slow blink. "Dad?" his voice was high, uncertain.

Jonathan smiled. "Yes, son, it's me."

Clark sagged into his father's embrace. "I thought you were dead," he cried.

Jonathan blinked back his own tears as he stroked the back of Clark's head. "Clark, you have to listen to me now." deep breath "You were taken to some kind of lab. The doctor there did" his voice caught "horrible things to you…but whatever you saw was…was not real, son." pause "Do you understand?"

"Is this real?" Clark whispered, pulling back to look at his father.

"Yes, son, this is real." Jonathan smiled gently.

Clark looked around frantically, "Where's Mom?"

Jonathan gripped his upper arms again. "She's fine, Clark. She's in the other room with Lex."

"Lex?" Clark looked thoughtful. "Then Lex didn't hurt you," he stated.

"No, son, Lex didn't…hurt us." Jonathan cringed inside at the half truth.

Dr James came toward Jonathan and Clark. He was an older man with graying dirty blonde hair and intense ice blue eyes. "Jonathan, may I have a moment with your son?"

Jonathan looked him up and down, nodded, "Clark, this is Dr James. He is going to help you understand…things, okay?"

Clark still looked confused but nodded, implicitly trusting his father.

Jonathan patted his shoulder, walked back in to his wife.

"Clark, walk with me," Dr James motioned down the hall.

Jonathan sat in the arm chair flipping through the 500 channels of Lex's satellite TV. It had been over an hour since Dr James had taken Clark for a walk. Frustrated and impatient, he tossed the remote onto the coffee table staring uninterested at a news channel.

"…renowned psychologist Jeremiah Kimball of the Gale Institute of Psychology, was found dead in his laboratory at the morning shift change. It is reported that Dr Kimball was inside a new sensory deprivation chamber. This new tank had apparently been modified with virtual reality functions, it is assumed for hypnotic induction. It is alleged the doctor was testing the new machinery on himself when a short circuit completely wiped the computer system and… "

Jonathan grabbed the remote, clicked the television off, trying to think. He couldn't say he felt remorseful that the doctor was dead, not even a twinge. His reverie was broken when Martha came up behind him, putting her arms around his shoulders, her head leaned against his. "Anything interesting?"

He pondered his reply then answered, rubbing her arms, "Nope."

Dr James came up behind them, clearing his throat. They turned to him eager for his assessment of their son.

"Where is he?" Martha asked trying not to sound worried, hoping inside he didn't run off at super-speed or try to strangle anyone else.

"He's outside. Don't worry, I have someone with him."

Martha nodded, Jonathan cleared his throat, waiting for him to continue.

The doctor looked around, spotted a chair and pulled it over to sit beside the Kents.

"As I am sure you understand, Clark has been through an extremely traumatic experience. He is demonstrating symptoms of hyper-responsitivity, which is an exaggerated response to stimuli, and aggressive anger. It could be much worse. After only four days of this form of torture, many soldiers suffer loss of identity, difficulty meeting basic survival needs, apathy, depression…these symptoms could still develop but…"

"Those were trained soldiers, not fifteen year old boys. We have no way of knowing how long Clark was in that tank," Jonathan interrupted.

Dr James nodded, "True. Your son needs to get back to his most secure place…I am assuming that is home. Do you both live in the home?"

Martha did her best not to look offended but she couldn't keep it from her voice, "Of course."

"Just checking," he conceded. "After what happened earlier, I would recommend that Mr. Luthor stay away for a while. Get Clark to talk and I'll be out twice a week to see him." He looked to his hands. "I could give him some medication to help…"

"No," Jonathan interjected forcefully. He knew it would have no effect on Clark. "Thank you…We'll…uh…take him home then."

Dr James pressed his lips together in frustration but acquiesced to the Kent's decision.


	15. UNReality 15

Fifteen.

Lex had the limo drive the Kents home. He wanted to go but since the confrontation with Clark, he thought it best to make himself scarce.

The limo pulled into the drive of the Kent Farm. Jonathan stepped out turning to offer a hand to his wife. Clark followed his mom slowly, eyes on the ground. Martha put her arm around him with a smile, rubbing his back, urging him toward the house. Jonathan came up behind resting his hands on Clark's shoulders.

Clark walked uncertainly up the steps. His knees quivered, his heart felt is would beat out of his chest. He looked to his mom then his dad, closed his eyes and opened the door.

Nothing. Nothing happened.

A tear tracked down his cheek as he stepped into his home. It felt different.

Leaving Clark to sit at the island, Martha busied herself getting the tea kettle on the stove.

Jonathan walked over to his wife, "I'm gonna check the farm, see if the men Lex hired to cover me messed anything up. Be back in a few hours."

Clark started after his father, "I'll go with you."

"No, Clark, you stay here with your mom," lowering him back to the stool. He turned and left.

"Would you like something to eat, sweetie?"

Clark shook his head, still watching his dad's retreating form. Martha came over, placing her hand on his face, guiding him to look at her. "Why don't you go lie on the couch?"

His line of sight turned back to his dad as Jonathan rounded into the barn…when it exploded.

"NO!" Clark shouted jumping to his feet.

Martha jumped back, shocked. "What? Clark, what is it?"

Clark blinked. The barn still stood, strong and sturdy. Clark put a trembling fist to his mouth, turned wide frightened eyes to his mother. "…nothing..." he whispered.

"Clark, that is not nothing! You scared me to death. Please, talk to me."

He looked quickly back at the barn then turned to run up the stairs to his room.

Martha sat on the stool, covering her face with shaky hands.

Clark sat on the edge of his bed. His nerves were settling and he was tiring. He closed his burning eyes and didn't think of anything.

It seemed hours later when a persistent sound brought his attention out of his stupor. For a second he just listened, trying to place the sound.

The tea kettle.

He waited for the sound to stop…waited…waited. "Mom," he called.

He moved to the top of the stairs. "Mom." His heart started to pound. He raced down the stairs at super-speed. Frantically, he x-rayed the house. She wasn't in there…she was gone…

He sped out to the middle of the driveway. "Mom," he screamed.

"Clark? What's the matter?" Martha came down the stairs behind him.

He turned, throwing his arms around her. "I couldn't find you."

She held her trembling boy in her arms, remembering when he was small and needed to be held so much. "I was out front watering my plants." She sighed heavily, praying, 'Oh, God, heal my baby.'


	16. UNReality 16

Sixteen.

Jonathan came in as the sun slipped below the horizon. "Martha," he called into the house.

"In here," was the hushed reply from the living room.

Walking over, he was greeted by his half-smiling wife sitting on the sofa. Their nearly grown son was asleep, covered in a quilt, head pillowed in her lap.

"Jonathan, I am afraid for him," she blurted, her eyes tearing.

"What happened?" Jonathan sat in the armchair beside her.

"When you left he just jumped up and started yelling, he wouldn't talk to me. Then I was out front and heard him screaming in the back yard…" her voice quivered. "I didn't know what to do. I got him in here and we started looking through the photo albums. I was telling him stories from when he was little. He calmed down and fell asleep…" she trailed off, brushing Clark's hair off his forehead.

"You did good then, Martha. With what he has been through, he needs to feel safe again," Jonathan tried to reassure her. He rubbed her arm, kissed her on the top of the head. "That doctor is supposed to be out tomorrow. We just have to make sure we tell him about all this."

Jonathan came around to the front of the couch. "Come on, son. Let's get you up to bed," he called, patting Clark's shoulder. The boy sat up, still half asleep. Jonathan pulled him to his feet and got him up to bed.

By the time Martha and Jonathan headed to bed it was nearly ten thirty. Peeking in on their son, they saw him belly down, half uncovered.

Martha whispered to Jonathan, "This is going to take time, isn't it." Statement, not question.

Jonathan sighed, "He's a strong kid, Martha. We just have to be strong, too."

She walked softly over to her son's bed, tugged the covers over him. Leaning down, she kissed his head, smoothed his hair, then she and Jonathan went to bed.

The morning came with the cock crow. Still disconcerted about the previous day, Martha didn't sleep well and was out of bed with Jonathan. After their coffee together, he went to start the morning chores, while she made breakfast.

Clark came down just as the bacon finished and plopped down on the barstool. "Morning, Mom," he said quietly, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful quiet that blanketed the house.

Martha smiled at her son with his hair in all directions and his sleepy face. "Good morning. Sleep well?"

Clark looked directly at his mother. "I had a dream…"

She dished his plate as she waited patiently for him to finish.

"I was in the loft," eyes distant "someone was up there with me…" looking at the tabletop "but I didn't know who it was…his face was just a dark blur…he tried to take me away…but you and Dad came up…" turned to face her "and he ran away…"

Martha walked behind her son. Putting her arms around his shoulders, she kissed the top of his head. "I love you, Clark."

Clark's eyes closed, leaning his head against his mother's.

"Hey, did you save some for me?" came a voice from the door.

Martha kissed the top of her son's head again, then went to fix Jonathan's plate.

"So when can he go back to school? He has missed so much already," Martha asked Dr James.

The doctor sat on the porch with Jonathan and Martha while Clark shot hoops by the barn. Dr James had come out after lunch and walked the farm with Clark for nearly four hours.

"Clark and I spoke extensively on our little stroll. He experienced something that I have only seen with prisoner's of war. He needs time and routine. He needs his identity reinforced. His security has been compromised, it needs to be reestablished. If he doesn't exhibit signs of aggression or extreme depression, I don't see why he can't start back next week."

Martha clasped Jonathan's hand, smiling, which he returned with a pat on hers.

"Clark, Dr James left," Jonathan said climbing the stairs to the loft. The sun was low in the sky shining through the big window.

Clark looked up from the notebook in which he was writing. He had tired of b-ball and everyone watching him as if he were unaware, so he hid up in the loft.

"What are you writing?"

Clark looked at his notebook then back to his father. "Dr James said I should write…when I'm upset or scared or whatever…" shrug.

"Oh." Uncomfortable silence. "Clark, you know you can talk to me about anything."

"I know, Dad…I guess…" looking anywhere but at his father "I'm afraid that if you know what I've seen…things will be different…you'd look at me and not see me but remember what I told and…things would be different…" shrug.

"Clark, I love you, son…no matter what." voice caught "I'll be here when you need me." He moved to go back down the stairs, turned back a few rungs down, "Pete called wanting to bringing Chloe over to see you. We told them maybe in a few days."

Clark nodded to his dad but his insides twisted with anxiety.


	17. UNReality 17

Seventeen.

The next two days were spent keeping Clark busy. From sun up to sundown, he was working the farm, side by side with his father, feeding cattle, mucking stalls, stacking hay bales. After dusk, he was busy with homework, writing in his notebook, watching TV with his mom and dad. Anything to keep from thinking.

The stars were out in full when Clark, finished his history. He leaned back against the couch in the loft, closing his eyes. A car pulling in the drive brought him to the window. It was Pete and Chloe.

When they stepped out of the car, Clark's heart skipped a beat. He watched them walk toward the house. His dad stepped out, talking and motioning toward the barn. Clark went back to the couch. He quickly jotted in his notebook, 'Pete and Chloe are here. I don't want to see them because they'll ask me questions. I can't tell them what I went through for the same reason I can't tell my parents.' He stuffed the book under the stack of school books.

"Knock, knock, are you decent?" Chloe called from the bottom of the stairs.

Heavy sigh, small smile, "Come on up." He stood to greet his guests.

They topped the stairs with uneasy smiles and nervous waves.

"Hey, Clark," Pete came up giving him a fierce hug and pat on the back.

Chloe was next with a gentle squeeze. "I was so worried about you," she whispered. She stepped back with tears in her eyes.

Clark looked around the loft in obvious discomfort, thumbs hooked in back pockets. "Uh, do you want to sit?"

The three reconvened on the couch. Chloe picked up Clark's history notebook. "I see you got your assignments."

Clark nodded, "Yea, Lana brought them by earlier."

Chloe pressed her lips together with a small, "Oh."

"She didn't come up to see me. Gave everything to my mom. She was just doing her civic duty, I guess." Clark was finding his fingers way too interesting.

Pete intervened, "Hey, maybe she just doesn't know how to cope with this 'Clark isn't a superman' thing."

They chatted into the evening, Pete and Chloe not once asking about his ordeal. When they finally left, he was sad to see them go.

Dr James came by two more time before clearing Clark for school. He was apprehensive but excited to be going back.

Sunday, was a lazy day for Clark. He shot hoops, did a little homework, and helped his mom clean out the cellar. Evening brought the stars and the calm peace that came from searching them.

A knock brought him away from the telescope. A gasped and stumble back escaped him when he saw Lex standing at the top of the stair. "Hey, Lex. You…I didn't hear you come up."

"Didn't mean to startle you, Clark." He walked slowly over beside Clark, looking through the telescope, not missing the discomfort evident in his friend. "Their beautiful," he commented, bringing his gaze back to meet Clark's.

"Yea," thumbs in back pockets "What's up?"

"Dr James told me his work was finished so I thought I would come to see you." Lex walked over to the couch, sitting, leafing through the many papers on the coffee table.

Clark nonchalantly picked up his notebook, sat down beside Lex. Lex didn't miss that either. While his curiosity was piqued, he focused on why he was there.

"I found something…" he hesitated gauging Clark's reaction. The boy was silent, looking off across the room, but listening uncomfortably. "Do you remember Dominic?"

Clark nodded still not facing Lex.

"Apparently, my father wasn't his only high paying employer. Dr Kimball also had him on the payroll. When Dominic told him out about the files I have on you, he paid to have my computer quietly hacked. The rest you know." Lex stopped, couldn't bring himself to look at his friend. His best friend…that he couldn't take at face value and ended up hurting in his paranoia.

Clark took a deep, shaky breath, leaned foreword, elbows on knees, forehead on clasped hands. "Could you leave, please?"

"Clark, I'm sorr…"

"Just go."

Lex nodded, pressing his lips together. Patting Clark's shoulder, he left.

After Clark heard the car drive away, he cried.


	18. UNReality 18

Eighteen.

After Lex's visit last night, Clark didn't want to go back to school. He wanted to stay home and hide. His best friend was inadvertently responsible for the ten days of hell he endured.

Martha called to her son three times and he still wasn't down, hadn't even acknowledged her. She went up, tapped on the bedroom door. "Clark. You are officially late for first period." Still no response. Cracking the door, she peeked in.

Clark was still in bed, belly down, pillow over his head. Martha sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his back. "Clark, are you alright?" She tried to keep the worry out of her voice.

"No," was the muffled reply.

"Sweetie, what happened?" Martha glanced up at Jonathan who had come silently to the door.

"Lex came by last night."

Martha pulled the pillow off his head. He flipped his face to the wall but not before she saw his tear stained face. Jonathan and Martha remained silent, hoping Clark would finally open up to them.

"He told me that Dr Kimball took me after getting into his personal files about me."

Jonathan came in to the room. "I understand why you're upset, son." eyes locked on his wife "What happened was ruthless and that Lex inadvertently contributed is the clincher…but you are stronger than that…you can rise above this… you can't let this end your life…you can't let them win. "

Clark didn't move. Martha patted his back, stood to go, "I'll call the school."

Jonathan pressed his lips together. "Let's go, son," he said firmly.

"I don't want to go to school," Clark continued to object.

Jonathan grabbed him by the arm, hauling him up to sit on the edge of the bed. He threw clothes at him on the way out. "Get ready. I'm leaving in five minutes."

"I don't want to go to school," Clark repeated.

"I'm not taking you to school. We're putting an end to this."

Jonathan drove to Lex's mansion. Clark was silent the entire trip, unsure of his father's motives.

Jonathan pulled an old, worn baseball bat from behind the seat. Clark looked at him aghast. "What are you going to do?"

Jonathan ignored him, using the bat to bang on the door. Security balked at the bat and refused them entrance. Clark watched with wide eyes as his dad yelled through the open door for Lex.

After a few minutes, Lex came to the door but still behind the security team. "Mr. Kent, what's going on?"

"Lex we need to talk," Jonathan stated, a cold stare locked on Lex.

"Sure. Let them in…" then louder when the security team paused "Let them in." Eyeing the baseball bat wearily, he motioned the team to leave.

Walking briskly down the hall, Jonathan spoke, "Where is it?"

Lex trailed behind him, Clark behind Lex, down the many hallways of the mansion, trying the doors, each opening until he got to one. Locked fast.

"Is this it?" he scowled at Lex.

"Mr. Kent, I have no idea what…"

Jonathan turned and kicked the door open. Lex closed his eyes, gritting his teeth.

Jonathan walked slowly to the center of the room, spinning to take in the entire thing. Clark followed his father, eyes wide, mouth agape. Computers and monitors flashed his face, a computer generated recreation of the accident on the bridge, his house. The wreckage of the Porsche sat in the center of the room.

Anger surged through Clark. Now he understood why his father brought him here. Taking the bat from his father's fingers, Clark started in on the closest monitor.

Lex came toward them, opening his mouth to object but Jonathan bulled him out of the room, shutting the door behind them. Their eyes locked, each unflinching at the sounds of destruction going on in that room.

Lex tore his gaze away to the floor, Jonathan's eyes teared. It seemed longer than the actual fifteen minutes before the sounds finally ceased.

Jonathan stuck his head into the room. It was smoky and debris covered the floor. Clark stood in the midst of it all, tears streaking his dirty face, the baseball bat limp in his hand. Jonathan made his way to his boy and wrapped him in strong arms.

Lex poked in his head. He carefully took a few steps through the mess. A nearby consol threw sparks causing him to flinch. He stared agape at the destruction of the room.

Jonathan passed him, an arm around Clark. Lex couldn't meet their eyes as they left.

Clark stepped away from his father near the truck. "I want to walk home," he said quietly.

Jonathan gauged his son's state then nodded. He climbed in the pickup and left.

Clark took his time getting home. The air was crisp and clean, being outside felt good. His heart felt lighter, he felt free.


	19. UNReality Epilogue

Epilogue.

The Kent family sat on the couch, sock feet on the coffee table warmed by the blazing fire in the fireplace, watching old Dukes of Hazzard reruns.

"I remember watching this when I was…well not much older than you, Clark," Jonathan commented around a mouth full of popcorn.

As the credits rolled, Clark gazed into the fire. "I was always trying to save you…" he said quietly. "Those visions in that tank…" he furthered.

Jonathan and Martha looked to their son hunkered between them.

"I was powerless. I couldn't protect you."

"Clark," Martha spoke quietly, putting her arm around her boy. "You are not our protector."

"We're the parents, Clark. You are our responsibility...for a few more years at least," Jonathan tossed a few popcorn pieces at him.

Clark leaned his head against his mother's. Closing his eyes, he relished the warmth and security of having his parents beside him. Things didn't feel so different anymore.

"Clark, you're going to be late," Martha called up the stairs.

Clark slowly clumped down the stairs. He was dressed in jeans, white t-shirt, and blue plaid flannel. "I'm ready," he sighed.

"I thought you were excited about going." Martha set a plate of eggs and toast on the bar for him.

"I am, I just…" he fiddled with his food. "I'm sure the rumors have been flying and I'm going to have to face all of those. All those people with their judgments and pity…"

Martha smiled sweetly, patted his hand, "You'll do fine."

"Clark," Jonathan shouted from the yard. "Bus us here."

Sighing, Clark grabbed his toast, kissed his mom and ran out the door. "Bye, Dad," he called passing him at a jog.

Jonathan walked into the kitchen, where Martha was washing the breakfast dishes. He came up behind her wrapping his arms around her middle. She leaned back into him with a contented sigh.

"He's going to be fine, right?" she asked quietly.

Jonathan took a deep breath before answering, "He'll never forget what he has been through. He is changed because of it. But he can learn from it, learn to live with it."

Lex looked around the destroyed room. Glass crackled under his feet as he made his way over to the Porsche. The car was a mangled wreck…more than normal. It looked as if it had been run over by a tank.

Lex stood pondering the car, thumb and forefinger rubbing his chin. 'What is you secret, Clark?'

THE END

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